by Sam Puma
Havana lifted the crown and placed it gently on Jankaro’s head. “May Sagaya bless you.” She lay down behind the last of the women and drifted down the stream.
“Now I must go, my son.” Shalea kissed Jankaro on his cheek, lay down in the water and drifted away.
Jankaro was filled with amazement and overcome with emotion. He simply stood and watched his mother drift away as a tear rolled down his face. He knew he had been charged with a heavy task, but in that moment he felt there was nothing he could not do. His mother’s love filled his heart. He felt love for the people. He dreamed of a world where no one need fear the Cruxai any more. He longed to return to Valera and wrap her up in his love.
Next to him the water stopped flowing and the body of the snake slowly collapsed into an empty skin. Jankaro knelt down and touched the skin, feeling its smooth texture and tracing the lines and patterns. He took a deep breath and his heart pulled him out of the cave, back toward Calixo.
Outside he sensed the sun was soon to rise. After he finished climbing, the earth quaked and the hill shook. He turned around and watched as dirt and rocks tumbled down the side of the hill to fill up the entrance. He walked back to the tree and picked a piece of fruit. He bit into it and stepped lightly as he made his way back to the city.
When Jankaro returned to Calixo, he led with confidence. He met with the other kings and discussed the affairs of the city and the future of the empire, always the one to be the voice of the common folk of lower Calixo when the others wanted to horde wealth for themselves. He promoted soldiers and formed a core of officers with Orion, getting to know and trust the men and women who carried the responsibility of commanding his troops in battle. Together they reestablished Calixo’s defenses and prepared for another attack. Scouting reports revealed that the Cruxai had retreated to Caladon, but various factions had broken off and headed for Dorfin, the jungle, and into other lands to the north. There were no signs to indicate that they were mobilizing for an attack. Jankaro and his war council considered allowing the scouts to stay out at night and gather more information on the Cruxai’s movements. But they were still very low on soldiers, so they were cautious about taking unnecessary risks until the situation demanded it.
Many of the civilian fighters were invited to the initiation to become soldiers. Fifty-seven accepted the invitation. Anhael passed on his duty as initiator to Janesa, counseling her from a distance as he prepared for a journey to Olaya. He wanted to know if his father’s magic could regenerate Ixtlayo’s paw.
For a few weeks, Jorobai savored his time with his son, eating lavish meals, exploring the giant stone village and receiving the praise of its citizens for his heroics. He liked the comfort, and wanted to stay by his son’s side to help him handle his new responsibilities. After meetings with the other kings, Jankaro would seek out Jorobai and express his frustrations about how the Galdeans saw the world. Jorobai was the only one who understood him. In speaking to his son, Jorobai remembered the way his father had once led the people of Olaya. Even in such a small village, there was diversity of opinion and people with inflated self-images. Jorobai encouraged Jankaro to find the patience that his grandfather carried. “When you were born, my father held a ceremony to bless your life. His spirit and strength was passed through me onto you.”
Jorobai’s heart ached, for he longed to return to Olaya with Jankaro by his side. He wanted to take him on the initiatory hunt, to restore the tradition that had been broken. He wanted to take him out in the jungle to track prey and learn every skill he possessed so his son could stay out on any night in the jungle and face any challenge. He spoke of these things to his son, but Jankaro had to postpone it.
“One day, father. One day we will return home together. But I have many battles to fight before I can rest.”
Anhael nurtured Ixtlayo until he was back to a robust state of health. He was perfect but for the loss of his paw. He walked with a limp and was saddened that he could not run very fast and would never be ready for battle again. Anhael knew that the time had come to take him to the jungle and seek out Ishikaya. The old man’s power was great, and Anhael was inclined to believe he could help Ixtlayo.
As he prepared to depart, Anhael approached Jorobai. “Do you remember Madrigo? The sailor who took us out on the sea? He carried me back to land, so that I could continue my work and help Jankaro become a soldier. When we parted ways, he made me promise that if I ever saw you again, I would remind you of the debt that you owe his village.”
The memories of the sea voyage flooded into Jorobai’s mind. He saw his brother die again, and his heart heaved with grief. He went further back into the memory and recalled Madrigo. He remembered standing by the riverside with Rongo and Kayo by his side, negotiating with the big man. Four years. He owed him four years of excess crops and gifts from the region of the jungle around Olaya. “I had completely forgotten.” He leaned back on his heels and nearly stumbled as Anhael took his arm to stabilize him. “I can’t just…” He wanted to say that he couldn’t just leave his son, but before he could say it, he knew what he needed to do. His father had been a man of his word, and he was a man of his word, and that was the first thing he wanted to pass on to his son. Even though it broke his heart, he knew he needed to go back to Olaya without Jankaro. He gathered himself, stood strong and looked Anhael in his eyes. “You’re right. I need to go back and pay my debt.”
“Ride with me Jorobai. I could use your help with Ixtlayo. I am taking him back to my father to see if he can use his magic to re-grow that front paw, so Jankaro can ride him into battle again.”
Jorobai felt a nauseous feeling in his stomach. “I don’t want to see him.” He spoke without thinking, repulsed by the powerful energy of the old man. He didn’t need another epic shamanic journey or battle with another Juitao. The thought of being back on his farm started to sound like just what he needed. He was surprised by the thought in the back of his mind that he might find a new woman and start over again.
“It’s okay. I know your farm and your village needs you. Just ride with me to Olaya and I will take Ixtlayo to see my father on my own.”
“On one of those? A horse?” Jorobai pointed to a nearby horse.
“Of course!” Anhael smiled at him, then turned to Maximus, waving him over. “Maximus, teach this man to ride a horse. Tomorrow we ride!”
“Take it slow, brother.” Jankaro reached up and scratched the side of Ixtlayo’s face. “Take your time and take care of yourself. I want you to come back whole. And if you never come back, I will understand.” Jankaro loved the Ashtari enough to set him free, but there was something in Ixtlayo’s eyes that told him he would be back when he could. “When you come back we will finish them off together. And no more swimming in the sea!” Ixtlayo rumbled and rubbed his head against Jankaro’s body, sending him stumbling back a step.
Anhael placed a small vial in Jankaro’s hand. “This is Amoza. Hopefully you won’t need it. It is to be used only in a time of great need. This is from the batch that your father harvested and prepared. I saved some for you. Drink it at night in a place where you cannot be disturbed. Smoke your smoke, sing your mother’s song and pray for Sagaya to guide you.”
“Thank you, my friend.” Jankaro embraced Anhael. “I trust you will be back soon?”
“It looks like my work here will continue. But first I must attend to this one,” he gestured to Ixtlayo. “If all goes well, I will bring him back whole again.”
“And you?” Jankaro turned to Jorobai. “When will you be back?”
“Four years, my son. I will find you and meet my grandchild.” Jorobai winked. “She’s a lovely woman. It’s a strange place here. It’s not a place for a jungle man. But you have all treated me well, so I will return. But you know you can always come home…”
“Once this war is over, that is the first place I want to be. I will ride my Ashtari home and see the people of Olaya again.�
� Jankaro and Jorobai shared their final embrace. “When you see Kiara, pick her some flowers from me. And if you see Chesta, throw a rotten mango at him for me!”
Father and son laughed together and Jorobai struggled to mount his horse. “I think I would end up with rotten mangoes all over me.”
Jankaro watched and waved goodbye as Ixtlayo limped away, flanked by Anhael and Jorobai. A macaw flew over his head, up towards the castle, and into the room where he shared a bed with Valera. With an ache in his heart, he turned away from watching his father and friends leave, adjusted the crown on his head and marched steely eyed toward his morning meeting with the war council.
About the Author
Sam Puma was born and raised in Northern California where as a child he and his friends roamed in the woods acting like a band of epic adventurers. In 2011 he traveled along the Ucayali River in the Peruvian Amazon and was compelled by the wild heart of the jungle to write an epic tale. He currently resides in Santa Rosa, California.
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